


Upon Reflection

by annejumps



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Comeplay, Community: kink_bingo, M/M, Masturbation, Mirror Sex, Necks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-02
Updated: 2013-01-02
Packaged: 2017-11-23 10:36:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/621175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/annejumps/pseuds/annejumps
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“D’you know what I’ve always wanted to do?” Eames asked suddenly, with the bluntness that came to him when he was tipsy. It had been a very long day, ending with room service and wine. They’d fallen into a habit of sharing the same room and sleeping together on jobs, if possible. As habits went, it was an agreeable one.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Upon Reflection

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [kink_bingo](http://kink-bingo.dreamwidth.org/) Round 5 for the square _bodies and body parts_ (although I've gotten bingo twice; this is sort of a bonus). Based on an idea from [Amy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/asunder). Beta'd by [anatsuno](https://archiveofourown.org/users/anatsuno/).

“D’you know what I’ve always wanted to do?” Eames asked suddenly, with the bluntness that came to him when he was tipsy. It had been a very long day, ending with room service and wine. They’d fallen into a habit of sharing the same room and sleeping together on jobs, if possible. As habits went, it was an agreeable one.

Arthur downed the rest of his wine. “I can’t imagine.” He was sure he couldn’t.

“I’ve always wanted to wank off on your neck, and then lick you clean.” Eames was leaning back in an armchair and looking at the ceiling of their hotel room as he made this remark; even if it wasn’t a shy confession, he still wasn’t looking at Arthur. Arthur carefully set down his wine glass on the table between their chairs.

“I was looking at that mirror over there--” Eames gestured with his empty glass toward the floor-to-ceiling mirror next to the walk-in closet -- “and I immediately pictured you on your knees in front of it, looking at yourself and at me as I wanked and came all over your gorgeous neck, and then I could see myself kneeling down behind you and licking it off--”

Arthur stood and took off his tie and started unbuttoning his shirt, and Eames sat upright to look at him, cut off in his reverie by his always-high interest in watching Arthur undress.

“C’mon, then,” Arthur said, casting his shirt to land on the bed, striding over to the mirror.

In his sockfeet, in his wool suit pants and cotton undershirt, Arthur knelt on the floor, and turned to look at Eames, who was out of his chair and hurriedly undoing his belt. He felt a sharp thrill as their eyes met.

“That shirt off as well, please,” Eames said, voice sounding a little rough. Arthur nodded and took it off, dropping it within reach.

Eames got a hand in his underwear and squeezed himself, and cleared his throat, flushed, pausing, at Arthur’s shoulder. Arthur turned to look at him in the mirror, and winked. “Not too drunk for this, are you?”

Eames, who was not drunk, scoffed, pants hanging loosely on his hips, and started to stroke himself. “Just a moment, if you please,” he said, sounding a bit flustered and slightly peeved, as if this had all been Arthur’s idea. “I’m an old man, you know.”

“Oh, yeah. I forgot,” Arthur said dryly. Eames lightly smacked the back of his head with his free hand. “Watch it, you’ll damage my gorgeous neck.”

“Wanker.”

“No, that would be you.” Arthur watched Eames in the mirror, greedily taking him in. Still fully clothed, shirttails akimbo, pants sagging. He watched Eames’ hand on his cock, the way he squeezed around the head in a way that Arthur knew made him shiver and quake. Eames bit his lip and closed his eyes. “Do you want me to say something?” Arthur asked, more quietly.

Eames shook his head briefly, and opened his eyes. “Not yet.”

“I could tell you how much I want to feel it and how fucking hot you are,” Arthur suggested anyway, watching a flare of heat in Eames’ gaze even as he frowned.

“You’re incorrigible.” Arthur could see in the mirror the way Eames was looking at his neck. He leaned forward, looking down, arching it and pulling his shoulders down a bit to expose it, and heard Eames’ inhalation.

“C’mon,” he whispered, going still in anticipation of feeling Eames’ come on his skin, of hearing him gasp.

Eames shifted closer and forward, his free hand spreading out on the mirror as he leaned his weight on it. He brushed the tip of his cock against the back of Arthur’s neck; not expecting that, Arthur shuddered. Eames tended to get pretty slick, and he had really stretchy foreskin, which meant he had an enviable lack of need for lube and that his jerking off made sounds that drove Arthur a little insane, especially right next to Arthur’s ear like this.

He adjusted himself, shifting just slightly, and looked at Eames in the mirror. His face was red and he was staring at Arthur’s neck with single-minded focus, biting his lip.

“Come on, Eames,” Arthur whispered. “I want to see you come. I want to feel it.”

Eames made a soft sound in his throat, and worked himself faster.

“That’s it,” Arthur whispered, staring at Eames’ hand, at his cock. He heard his own breath catch when Eames started to come, caught the stunned expression on Eames’ face as he watched his come land on Arthur’s neck, and kept stroking until he was all out.

Eames stared for a moment then at what he’d managed to do to Arthur’s neck, and Arthur stared at him staring. Eames sank to his knees and pulled Arthur against him and his hot, wet tongue was on Arthur’s neck, licking up his own come with thoroughness and precision as he tried to catch his breath. Arthur squirmed, shivering, Eames’ breath hot on his skin and then cool where it was wet.

Eames chuckled low and Arthur realized he was ridiculously hard. Biting his lip and pressing back against Eames, he started unbuckling his belt. Catching the hint, Eames’ hands went to his fly and then sought his cock, found him bucking up insistently.

“Eames,” he said, breathless and demanding and pleading, and Eames’ teeth nibbled his neck as he started to stroke him, other hand clearing fabric out of the way as best he could to cup his balls. One of Arthur’s hands went to clutch the fabric of Eames’ pants at his thigh and the other smacked flat against the mirror.

Arthur stared at himself, watched the stricken expression on his reddened face and the covetous, intent one on Eames’ as Eames watched him watching himself watching them.

Eames squeezed and Arthur’s jaw dropped, and he closed his eyes for a moment. Eames kept mouthing at his neck with half-kisses as he stroked him faster, and it was something about the touches of his lips that stuck with Arthur as he came over Eames’ fingers, arching his neck a bit, panting through his teeth as he blinked at their reflections, fingers curling on the mirror until he spread them out again.

He sagged forward, leaning on the mirror. Eames, after giving his hand a perfunctory wiping with Arthur’s undershirt, wrapped his arms around him. Arthur was almost too out of it to appreciate the moment.

Eames kissed the nape of his neck with a certain tenderness Arthur sensed he was sneaking in when he thought Arthur, post-orgasmic, didn’t have the mental faculties to fully grasp its meaning. Not fooled, Arthur loosened his hold on Eames’ pants and turned in his arms to kiss him, although since they were both still breathing kind of hard it was sort of sloppy, and their clothes were in total disarray.

But of course, none of that mattered.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to [anatsuno](https://archiveofourown.org/users/anatsuno/), [Amy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/asunder), and Liz for all your help!


End file.
